The Ordinary Housewife

My story starts at the beginning of last summer, when my husband Simon and I moved to a new town in Southern England, along with our two young sons, and into a newly built house on a brand new housing development.

We are both the same age, approaching the end of our twenties, with the big ‘THREE-ZERO’ looming ever closer. We have been happily married since we were both aged twenty, and our two boys are now aged five and six. We are a couple very much in love with each other, and have a contented life.

On the estate we had moved to, the next phase of houses around ours was still being built and other houses were still being finished. The sparse landscaping around our property left a lot to be desired, and in keeping with the surroundings, our own gardens still looked like a building site.

SUNDAY.

After a month of living in the new house we had finally settled in. Simon had started his new job as an associate at a local solicitors firm, and the boys were enjoying their new junior school. Simon earned enough money from his job, so I didn’t have to work while our boys were still young, but as a housewife I looked after the house and boys during the day.

We had finally finished decorating the interior of the house, and it was exactly how we had wanted it to look. The exterior however was not at all as I had imagined. I decided that enough was enough, and that we were finally going to do something about the garden. It was a lovely summer’s weekend, and the perfect time to get out and look for something to make the garden look nice. I also wanted a safe place for our boys to be able play. After doing a little bit of online research we drove to the local nursery to get some ideas, and hopefully buy a few trees and plants to get us started.

As we wondered through the seemingly endless rows in the veritable forest of trees and bushes we were approached by a young woman who asked us if she could help us at all. She appeared to be about eighteen or nineteen, very petite and very pretty. She was about 5’ 4” tall, with blue-grey eyes, and long light brown hair reaching down to the middle of her back. She wore what appeared to be the standard nursery uniform; dark green polo shirt, with the company logo emblazoned across the chest, along with matching shorts, both looked about two sizes too big for her. She had slender tanned legs, and on her feet she wore an old, scruffy pair of dirty pink and white trainers.

It was a stiflingly hot summer’s afternoon; probably in the high eighties, and even with the oversized polo shirt I could tell that she wasn’t wearing a bra. I was sure that if I had noticed this fact, then my husband would have as well, so as we followed the girl I led my two boys along, but also kept my eye on Simon, curious to see if I could catch him checking her out.

As we walked around, looking at the various different plants I began to get the feeling that this girl was flirting with Simon. Maybe it was my imagination, but she seemed to be taking every available opportunity to bend over in front of us, seemingly offering him a view down the front of her shirt. On a few occasions, as she squatted down to read the tags on the bottom branch of a particular shrub or bush, she bent in such a way that her thighs opened up, and her shorts gaped open to expose her legs all the way up to where her obvious tan lines started. I was beginning to think that this girl wasn’t wearing any panties either!

After a further forty minutes or so we had picked out quite a few different trees and plants; far too much for us to take home by ourselves. The girl led us to the greenhouse office to pay for them, and to arrange for them to be delivered, and also for them to be planted in our garden. Everything was arranged for the following Wednesday. I was amazed they would come over so quickly. The girl completed the necessary paperwork and handed us our copy. Across the bottom she had written, “Thanks! Becky.” We said our goodbyes, and she smiled and gave a big goodbye wave to our boys, and we left to return to our car and back home.

Once we were at our car I immediately started to tease Simon about the girl and the way she was dressed, and that she seemed to have been flirting with him. Simon is the shy type, and he immediately blushed, his cheeks turning a bright shade of red. He said that he really hadn’t noticed.

“She was just dressed for the weather,” he said with a smile. “If you worked there you’d probably dress the same way!”

I continued to tease him.

“But she was very pretty, wasn’t she?” I asked.

“Well, I suppose she was cute!” he answered eventually.

“Aha! I knew it!” I shouted.

We had a good laugh, kissed, then headed home.

TUESDAY.

It was around midday, and I was in the house doing some housework as I normally do. Simon was at work and the boys were at school; so I was on my own until at least 3:30pm, when I had to go to pick the boys. I had some music on the stereo as I went about my chores. Suddenly the doorbell rang, startling me. I switched off the stereo, and when I looked out of the window to see who it was, I could see a large white van from the garden centre parked on the driveway.

“They’re a day early!” I thought to myself. But then I thought that was okay, and it was better to get the planting over and done with. It would also be a surprise for Simon if he came home to find the planting all done.

As I opened the door I was surprised to see the girl from the garden centre; Becky. She was dressed just as she had been when we saw her on Sunday. It was another very hot day outside. The sun shone brightly in the clear blue sky. She was sipping from an almost empty water bottle. Her face looked hot and sweaty, and I imagined that sitting inside a van on a day like today would not be a very pleasant experience.

“Hi!” she said cheerfully. “Remember me? Becky? I just came by to take a look at where we’ll be planting tomorrow. I hope I’m not bothering you.”

I said “Hello,” and told her that she wasn’t bothering me at all, and that I was just doing some laundry, so I could probably do with a break anyway. I invited her inside the house, and as she followed me through to the back door, I told her that my husband was at work and the kids were at school. She nodded and smiled at me, before explaining further that she just needed to check that there would be no problems in our garden before they came to do the work on Wednesday morning. I was a little disappointed that nothing was being done today, but we had arranged for the work to be done on Wednesday, so I couldn’t really complain.

Since I had been working inside I was wearing one of my old pairs of denim shorts, and one of Simon’s old white work shirts.